Restless Dead (Harry Grimm Book 5) by David Gatward (best love novels of all time .txt) 📕

‘You’ve not said much,’ Dan said, his eyes on the road. ‘About your mum, about what happened, I mean.’

‘Well, what’s there to say, really?’ Patricia replied. ‘She’s dead, isn’t she? And it’s absolutely bloody awful and tragic and terrible, yes, but I just don’t have the time to be upset, not right now. I really don’t. I’ll deal with it in my own time, in my own way.’

‘Well, perhaps you need to make time?’ Dan suggested. ‘You’ll have to anyway, once we get there. Your dad will need you. So will Ruth. That’s why we’re going, remember? Well, that and the fact that it’ll give us a chance to get to know the place a little better. Think what we could do with it!’

‘This was your idea,’ Patricia said. ‘Not mine. And I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate to be going around measuring up for new curtains quite yet, do you?’

Dan laughed. ‘And just how was this my idea, then?’

Patricia shook her head. ‘You suggested it.’

‘I absolutely did not,’ Dan replied. ‘Maybe we both sort of suggested it together? How’s that sound to you?’

‘You said how Dad would need me, and here we are, rushing off up there.’

‘I pointed out the obvious,’ Dan said. ‘That’s not the same as saying we should do something. And anyway, you went off in a huff and the next thing I know, you’re in the kitchen with your bags packed. But it’s a good idea for a lot of reasons.’

‘A month away from home, though? What were you thinking? It seems somewhat excessive. You’re not usually this keen to go away.’

‘It isn’t, not really,’ Dan said.

‘This new business of mine,’ Patricia continued, ‘it’s important, not just because it has to work, but because we’ve invested in it.’

‘Yes, I have,’ Dan said, and Patricia caught not just the emphasis but the change from plural to singular, but said nothing. ‘And it will all be fine, I’m sure. As to the time, well, that’s what I’ve got between now and the next contract. I can nip back to check on the house as and when. Aren’t we better off using this time to help out? You would only be travelling up here every weekend anyway.’

‘Not every weekend.’ Patricia sighed.

What Dan was saying made sense, though, to visit.

‘Let me know if you want me to drive,’ Patricia said. ‘You’ve been away the last two days and you got back late last night.’

‘You’ve been busy yourself,’ Dan said. ‘Just had to tie a few things up. All sorted now. And I’m fine. Have we got any of those boiled sweets in the glove compartment?’

‘Ruth is there anyway,’ Patricia said, finding the tin of sweets and offering them to Dan. ‘I’m sure she’s doing fine looking after him.’

‘You need to look after each other,’ Dan said, popping a sweet into his mouth. ‘Because that’s what families are supposed to do.’

Patricia went to say something, but Dan hadn’t finished.

‘And you’ll need Ruth and your dad as much as they’ll need you,’ he said. ‘That hard exterior will need to let something through if you’re going to deal with this properly and grieve.’

At this, Patricia’s eyes widened and she snapped round to stare at Dan.

‘Hard exterior?’ she said. ‘I’m not a cold-hearted bitch, you know!'

‘I know that,’ said Dan, holding up a hand as though to fend Patricia off, ‘but you do have that tough protective layer that you wear so well. And at times like this, you need to take it off. It’s good for business, but not necessarily for the rest of your life.’

‘Rich coming from the person who’s already talking about what to do with the house that isn’t even ours yet and may well never be,’ Patricia said. ‘Anyway, I don’t know what you mean. I’m delightful.’

‘You know exactly what I mean,’ Dan replied, and once again squeezed her leg. ‘Just relax a little, that’s all I’m asking. Oh, and it’s okay to cry, in case you were wondering.’

Patricia shook her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried, or the last time that Dan had been so full of empathy, never mind for people who he’d never really found much in common with. And, when she had taken the call from Ruth the night before, and they had spoken about what had happened, she had known that tears were there, somewhere behind her eyes, but that’s where she’d made sure they stayed. Because tears were no use, really.

‘Going quiet on me isn’t proving to me that you’ve heard a word I’ve said,’ Dan said.

‘How long is it until we’re there?’ Patricia asked, glancing out through the window, the scenery bringing back memories, making her want to close her eyes to it. ‘I could do with a nap.’

Dan checked the clock in the dash of the car, a Jaguar F-TYPE, in classic racing green livery. It was a thing of beauty and he really did love it, she knew that, and sometimes suspected that it was a toss-up as to which of them he would rather be inside. ‘Twenty minutes,’ he said.

‘Well, that should give me just enough time to warm up, don’t you think?’

The words were jokey, but the sentiment wasn’t, and Patricia turned away from Dan to stare out of the window. On the other side of the glass, the day was grey, matching how she felt inside, and the green of the fells and fields seemed to her to be muted rather than vibrant, the low cloud above dousing the landscape in an almost tangibly depressing mood.

As Dan drove on, the car taking the miles with ease, Patricia yawned, but couldn’t sleep. She spotted so many barns that she knew would just make the most perfectly wonderful little country escapes. She wondered why people weren’t snapping them up for conversion, why their owners weren’t taking advantage of what was, to her, a very obvious way to make some quick, easy money. Dan had done a few himself and that’s